


that much goodness

by estherroberts



Category: Alta Mar | High Seas (TV 2019)
Genre: Multi, i suppose this is what the kids call a morning after fic, there's nothing super explicit but there are hints toward alcoholism and sexual assault recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estherroberts/pseuds/estherroberts
Summary: alternate season 2 episode 6 that takes place after a decidedly different episode 4 and 5:natalia, clara, and pierre wake up in bed together. they spend the day figuring out what that means.
Relationships: Natalia Fábregas/Pierre (Alta Mar)/Clara Romero
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	that much goodness

**Author's Note:**

> "salt and the sea" by the lumineers has extremely them energies if you're looking for something to listen to while you read! also, at the opposite end of the vibe spectrum, "in the middle" by dodie is super cute too.

natalia is not spending the night here. but untangling herself from the limbs of the very gorgeous couple she finds herself sandwiched between might be harder than anticipated. she sighs. they look even prettier asleep. 

very slowly, she pulls her arm from out underneath pierre’s, weaves her legs out from between clara’s. she gets up and dresses, looking back on the two of them with something ugly, like affection, worming its way into her heart. she leaves in a hurry. 

she unlocks the door to her own cabin and tosses her keys on a side table, her coat onto the living room couch. it’s a little past 1 in the morning, according to the clock on her bedside, and she knows she should probably go to sleep. but she sits at her desk, still dressed, and lights a cigarette. 

natalia can’t let herself slip like this. she has too much to worry about, too much to manage. her little brother knows nothing about running this company, and with the unfortunate demise of her husband, well. he’s driving it into the ground. and varela got his money, but he’s still hounding her. not to mention all of this... fraudulent medium drama. 

she leans back in her chair and glances out the window. she can’t see the ocean through the black night, but the knowledge of it feels akin to comfort. 

* * *

clara wakes up to a space between her and pierre. she registers this as abnormal before she realizes why, wrapping her arms around him. and then the events of the previous night creep their way back into her mind. she pulls back with a start, which has the unfortunate side effect of waking pierre. 

“clara, are you okay?”

“yes, i’m sorry, i just... noticed natalia wasn’t here.”

he blinks. “you’re right.” he flops onto his back, so clara crawls toward him and rests her head on his chest. “do you think we... did something to upset her?”

clara shakes her head. “no. maybe... i don’t know. i don’t think so.” she goes over the memories from last night, trying to see if natalia seemed anything less than enthusiastic at any point. no, realizes, and she’s glad pierre can’t see her, because she can feel how hard she’s blushing. 

he kisses her head. “maybe she just needed space.”

“mm.” clara traces little circles on pierre’s skin. he’s surprisingly calm about all of this, but the fact that she and her boyfriend just slept with the woman whose husband she killed is... well. it’s a lot for her to process.

she turns onto her side, facing away from him. 

“clara? are you ok?” 

“yeah.” but the tenderness in his voice gets to her, so she turns back around. he’s been so gentle with her lately, so concerned. she doesn’t want him to treat her like she’s fragile, but she has to admit that she has, actually, been quite fragile lately. she promises herself to accept his help when it’s offered. “i think so. are you?”

“i’m a little worried about natalia.” he shrugs. “but i don’t... have any regrets? do you?”

she bites her lip. “no. it’s just... _weird._ ” 

he looks back with amusement. “sleeping with a third person? or the fact that it was her?”

clara laughs. “both. definitely.” she buries her face in her hands. 

pierre pulls her into his arms. “are you sure you’re okay?”

“just embarrassed!”

“there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. well, i mean, one or two of the sounds you made—”

“hey—” clara pulls back and smacks him with a pillow. 

he laughs. “i’m sorry, i just wanted to make you laugh. you know how i feel about your sounds...” he leans forward and kisses her, which she graciously allows. 

she presses her forehead against his. “would it be weird to visit her today?”

“would it be weird _not_ to?”

* * *

when natalia answers the door, pierre and clara are standing nervously in front of her. the ship’s second officer is holding a bouquet of flowers, and its singer holds... “is that a tart?” 

“yes.” clara’s grip on the tart is white-knuckled.

natalia crosses her arms and regards the pair steadily for a moment. she doesn’t want to let them in. but they brought her a _tart_. and flowers. dear god. 

they’re looking at her, expectantly, too, with matching puppy dog expressions. besides, the longer they stand out there, the more attention they’ll draw. so, she heaves a great sigh and lets them in.

when the door closes behind them, she asks, “so... you two don’t know how to take a hint?”

clara turns to pierre. “i told you it was weird!”

“i thought it was polite!”

clara looks like she wants to say something else, but she turns back to natalia and offers an apology. 

natalia shrugs. “it’s okay, cariña.” she takes the tart from her hands, setting it on the table. she takes the flowers, too, noting with a bit of irony that the only available vase is the replica of the one that killed her husband. she looks back at them, raising an eyebrow. “you _can_ sit.” 

they sit. 

“look,” natalia begins, “this is—”

“too much?” pierre asks. 

“too soon?” clara asks, nearly at the same time. 

she suppresses a laugh, sitting down. “well. it’s just...” _last night was fun, but let’s not do this again._ it would be so easy to say, it’s what she _wants_ to say, what she absolutely _needs_ to say. but now that they’re here... she’s finding it hard to make her mouth form the words. she bites her lip. 

clara looks at her with those eyes that see everything, that saw her hurting when no one else could, and natalia knows that she’s seeing a rejection now. “i’m sorry, natalia. this was a bad idea. we should go.” 

they get up, and the expressions on both their faces are more than a little hurt. but seeing that twists something inside natalia’s gut. goddamn it. “no, please—let’s. let’s eat the tart?”

pierre and clara exchange a look and just about beam at each other. they sit back down and pierre turns his grin at natalia. “you’ll like it, i promise. it’s the same one they made me when i got my promotion.” 

they eat in relative silence. there’s a lot of near eye contact, and the clearing of throats, and the temptation to get up and pour herself a gin keeps weighing on natalia. 

“so,” pierre clears his throat after finishing his second slice. “what did you think?”

natalia taps her fork on her empty plate. she looks him in the eyes, and simply says, “delicious.” 

he blushes and looks down. 

she hadn’t meant it as an innuendo—well. she had, a little bit, but the fact that he’s clearly taking it as one twitches the corners of her mouth. 

and clara’s blushing too. heavens, they are cute. and she’d had so much fun last night. maybe this _could_ be something. stress relief, if nothing else... no. no no no. she blinks and shakes her head, looking up at clara and pierre and masking her features. “i’m sorry, but you need to leave now. i have... meetings. with my brother, and the captain.” 

“oh—okay, of course.” pierre stands and begins cleaning up the coffee table. 

“just leave it,” natalia snaps.

clara touches pierre’s hand and he stops, looking back up at natalia. 

he nods, and they leave. 

when the door clicks shut, she leans back in her chair and lights up a cigarette. 

* * *

outside her door, clara sighs. “well. it was worth a try.” 

pierre wraps an arm around her shoulders as they return to their room. “i don’t know if that was a rejection.” 

“it was three different rejections!” 

“hm.” 

she shrugs. “she liked the tart though.” 

“she did.” he squishes her close to him. “hey, are you going to be okay today? i can ask someone to cover for me if you need company.” 

clara stays silent for a moment. she does want him to stay with her. maybe she would feel safer, feel some kind of respite from the guilt that has been pressing on her for the past few days. but making him skip work for her, in all honesty, would just add to that guilt. “no, i’ll be okay. what time is it?” 

he checks his watch. “a little after 11.” 

she sighs. “i should be on vocal rest anyway. we have a big set tonight.” 

“i’ll be there.”

“i know you will, pierre, it’s your job.”

“i’d be there even if it wasn’t,” he promises. 

“i know.” she shakes her head. “do you think…” 

“it’s kind of her job too.”

clara laughs. “yeah. but will she actually _watch_?” 

“she always does.”

“mhm.” 

they reach their cabin door and he kisses her softly. “you’re sure you’ll be ok?” 

“yes. now get to work. nicolás’ll kick your ass if you’re late again.”

* * *

natalia has no idea how long she’s been sitting there when the phone rings. she answers with a mild irritation. “yes?” 

“hermana.”

“hello, fernando. how can i help you?” 

“we did actually have a meeting today. the captain has already left. i’m not sure if you blew it off for fun, or—” 

she glances at the clock. the meeting started at 11:30, and it’s well after noon. shit. “i’m on my way. your office?” 

“yes. i’ll fill you in on what we discussed, since you were _clearly_ too busy to attend.” 

she’s seriously considering clocking him in the jaw when she sees him. ultimately, she decides it will not be helpful or productive in her goals of total financial control, so she relaxes her balled up fists and grabs her purse. 

when natalia arrives, she waltzes into her brother’s office and sits at his desk. she crosses on leg over the other, and politely declines his offer of a drink. she sees the expression on his face, but she makes no comment and neither does fernando. he does, however, pour himself a glass. 

he sits down across from her and intertwines his fingers. “so... you got varela to make your shares official.”

“yes.”

“how much did you have to pay him for that?”

she barks a laugh. “that is between the detective and me.”

he raises his eyebrows in acknowledgment. “i suppose you’re going to make good on your promise to... help with management.” 

natalia tilts her head. he’s acting like he has the upper hand, like he’s the king of this castle, and she needs to remind her little brother of his place. “so, when you attacked that woman in her room, what did you hit her over the head with?”

fernando regards her with a simmering rage. she wasn’t sure if he’d actually done it, of course, but she knows now. “i told you. i was alone in my room. and last i checked, you’re the one who told me i needed a better alibi.”

she shrugs. “i just want to know what i’ve gotten myself into.” 

he spreads his hands outward. “look, natalia. i need to know i can trust you. i already told the captain i was with you.”

“of course you can.” and with that, balance is restored. “do i still need to be here? i have other things to do.”

he shakes his head and waves her off. 

natalia gathers her things and sashays out the door. 

* * *

as soon as she’s through the door, clara lets herself fall face forward onto the bed. she stays there for a moment, but eventually adjusts so that she’s sitting up, her back to the pillows. 

she wants to journal about this, but there’s simply too much to say that she can’t put down on paper. it feels like it’s too much to hold in her head, too much to hold in her body. 

she grabs her journal anyway and draws, creating a map of abstract lines and shapes, which eventually gets reduced to a scribble. it helps, a bit. but not really. 

“i killed aníbal.” she whispers to herself, and then says it again, a bit louder, a bit more confidently. she wants to shout it, scream it, yell it on stage tonight for everyone to hear, those words that have been pressing on her so hard she feels they might break her. 

but she can’t. she can’t. 

clara slams her journal shut. “i killed aníbal and… i slept with his wife.” saying this version of the sentence out loud actually makes her giggle. she leans back against the pillows and traces her fingers along the soft lines natalia drew on her body the night before. 

the woman had seemed so closed off when they first met. so resigned to her husband and the life she was living. but now... she cares for clara, in her own way. clara knows it. and last night had confirmed it more than anything. natalia’d been so careful with her, so kind, that it almost brings tears to clara’s eyes remembering it. she hadn’t known natalia was capable of such gentleness. 

whatever resentment clara had toward her for hiding their crimes, whatever fear she had of what else natalia could do with this knowledge... it’s starting to fade. clara cares about her, too. 

and confessing, however it might free up the heavy pieces of clara’s soul, would only hurt natalia. 

clara can’t bear to see her hurt again. 

* * *

the dinner set starts at 7. natalia told herself all day she’d take dinner in her room. she thought she’d send the right message, stay away from clara and pierre just a bit longer. but it’s 6:55 and she’s dressed and her makeup is done and she has one foot out the door. _why_ is she doing this? 

she presses her hand on the doorframe. maybe she just needs to see clara sing one more time. and then she can tell them no. 

satisfied with this justification, natalia takes off down the hall. 

she passes carolina, walking arm in arm with the ship’s fake medium. they whisper something to each other. natalia lets her gaze linger long enough to see casandra tuck a hair behind carolina’s ear. huh. there’s something between them, something new and tentative. she puts this information away. it’ll be useful someday. but for now, she takes a secret glee in seeing someone else screw over her brother. 

her feet lead her to the bar in the ballroom. she rests her hand on the barstool lightly, but doesn’t sit down. the bartender leans forward, but she waves him away. her hand on the chair turns into a fist. 

she should leave. she should leave. she picks her hand up off the seat and turns to walk out of the room. 

but then, the music starts. 

she turns around slowly, and there she is. clara stands before the entire ballroom, incandescent and beautiful. she smiles, calls out a greeting. for a moment, natalia is stuck. she watches the singer move across the stage, and makes a decision. she sits. alone, at a table near the back. she’ll stay, at least for a bit. 

clara holds out one long, aching note. 

natalia can’t tear her eyes away. 

the song moves slowly toward the chorus. at first, natalia doesn’t hear the lyrics. she just watches clara, aching along with her, unable to lock down the heavy gates she normally keeps in front of her heart. 

something wet wells in her eye. she swallows, wiping it away a bit too harshly. 

near the stage, she sees pierre. he’s watching clara with his eyes glued to her, his face open and full of love. and natalia, in spite of herself, thinks it might be easier to hear this song standing next to him, rather than alone at the table.

she walks over to him, and stands close. he smiles at her when she does, looking away from his girlfriend for only a moment. 

natalia looks at her too, really looks at her. she’s so beautiful. she’s trying so hard to heal, and be a good person, and that much goodness next to everything natalia hates about herself is _hard_ to face. but she looks anyway. 

“pierre,” she whispers. 

he leans down a bit, offering his ear. 

“i’m sorry i told you she was your burden.” 

he turns all the way toward her, taking her hand. “yeah?” 

“she’s not a burden. but she does need us. both of us.”

“is this what you want?” he asks. “an us?” 

she stays silent, but pulls him closer. and when clara looks over to them, she kisses his cheek. 

clara grins. 

**Author's Note:**

> this fic would literally not exist without natalia/gellavonhamster's galaxy brain, she suggested this ship to me and it lives, rent free, in my head. 
> 
> & also blue ! who basically like, came up with the prompt for this fic, and i so appreciate it ! 
> 
> as always thank you to alex/summerwoodsmoke for the edits and also for egging me on with the NPC content. please write your sugar babies au. 
> 
> thank you to everyone for reading! let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
